


Lessons in Life by Poe Dameron

by 13letters



Series: Hell of a Start and Other Companion Works [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bad Advice, Brotp, Drinking, F/M, Friendship, Humor, NO SHIP LIKE FRIENDSHIP, Not In Chronological Order, Poe "..Ever apply the handbrake?" Dameron, Shenanigans, The Traveling Jacket
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-05-08 08:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5490011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13letters/pseuds/13letters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He blinks. Once. Twice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He's suddenly faced with the decision to do right by Finn, to set him like a compass towards the innocently unassuming straight and narrow path. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Or he can just tell more or less the truth. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fuck it.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What If We

**Author's Note:**

> Go see TFA if you haven't!
> 
> And enjoy. :) This will tie into _Hell of a Start_ , but either way, this will be an adventure!

"So you really never had a drink, huh?"

They're only two drinks in, some Corellian liquor that _definitely_ wasn't on their trade mandate, not that Poe's asking questions or complaining, nope, and after the initial burn that hit Finn after his first swallow of the hard stuff, he takes to it like a natural. 

Finn has the potential to be the sorta person that's a functional alcoholic as well as an absolute copilot if all life is an endless sky and a never-ending flight, but who can really tell after two drinks? And going on three.

Oh, no.

"Was against protocol," Finn tells him, grinning like half a moon and sloshing his drink with excitement only those getting properly drunk for the first time possess. But hey, at least he isn't thinking back on his time in the First Order with the solemnity that hardens his face with unworthy inferiority. This is definitely an improvement. 

"What else haven't you ever done?" he asks him. His mind's starting to feel a little fuzzy, a little warm, and when he looks back up to Finn, he's staring at his fingers like he's amazed he has them. 

"A lot," Finn whispers, mystified, slurred. "Everything."

"Never drank," he clarifies, gesturing to the keep for two more drinks. "Never.. did you ever get to laugh a lot as a Trooper?"

"No, nope, never had many chances to."

"Shit, Finn, you never even flew a ship. Can you cook? Swim? You ever been with a woman? Gambled?"

"Against protocol," he says, serious. Then he laughs at how hilarious he is, and Poe has to keep him from falling off his stool. "We couldn't gamble, but some of the higher up ones would bet things. Like buttons. Boots. Rations."

"..Right. Okay, yeah, uh." He pauses, scrunches up his face, frowns at Finn 'cause he just can't stop laughing. "Not really cool, no. Can you cook?"

"I can boil water. Can make those noodle things in fifty-nine milisecs instead of sixty."

He looks so proud that Poe just whistles lowly and takes another swig of his whiskey. It'll have to make him either more impressed or perseverant. "Wonderful. Ever swim?"

"No."

"..Been with a woman?"

"In -- in rooms with them, right?" 

"Why are you asking me a question, Big Deal?"

"I've talked to them," Finn says huffily, a little like he's still asking a question.

Heavens, this kid. "Can you see straight?"

"Sorta," Finn laughs. He nearly slips off his stool again.

"Finn," Poe directs, suddenly serious. Finn leans forward instinctively, another chortle threatening the purse of his mouth, and Poe -- he can't. "What did they _teach_ you in the First Order?" Because this is ridiculous. And he might be pushing his luck, but inebriated Finn might be the only FN-2187 that talks.

"Nothing that matters," he says, quick like it doesn't matter. Which it doesn't, but y'know. Still. His smile's so easy right now, so bright. 

"Never, huh?"

"No."

"Shame."

"Why?" Finn asks, and Poe watches him transition from elation to devastation in half a parsec.

"Just figured you'd at least kissed Rey, I guess," and oh, he can be an ass when he wants to, he won't deny it. He pretends to study the wall behind Finn and crosses his arms over his chest cooly, looking indifferent until he just about tips off his seat.

That makes him quiet a moment. A long moment that stresses his face, imperceptibly reaches for Poe's whiskey, opens his mouth to say something but closes it four times.

"Should I have?" Finn finally manages. Not like he regrets it, not yet. Just.. curious. And expectant.

"You just know whether to or to not when it happens," he tells him as wise and cognitive as strong drink allows him. "You won't question it."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much," he smirks. Another happy landing.

"That's right awful, Poe," he accuses, downing the rest of his drink. "You promised to help me."

"You're a special case!"

"I should do something," Finn decides right then. He has that look of determination that got them out of the Starkiller, and Poe slaps his knee, curls his fingers through his hair. 

"Brilliant. Simple. Full of action. Good plan."

"Yeah," Finn inhales deeply, his eyes wide and focused and a little glassy. "What should I do?"

"Right now?" he whisper-shouts. "What would you do now? How many girls have you even talked to? Have you ever even.." Poe pauses abruptly. He knew he had some work to do, but this wasn't quite the guy's night he had envisioned.

He blinks. Once. Twice.

He's suddenly faced with the decision to do right by Finn, to set him like a compass towards the innocently unassuming straight and narrow path. 

Or he can just tell more or less the truth. 

Fuck it.

"Anyone ever.. _talked_ to you, Finn?"

"Of course," he replies. Until Poe gives him a disbelieving look. "You do mean actual talking, right? Conversing."

"Yeah. No! No, I mean _talking_. About being a man."

"I wasn't a man," Finn says. Poe's starting to think it isn't just the alcohol keeping that warm smile on the younger man's face. "I was a Stormtrooper."

It's Finn that studies the wall over his head this time, idly tapping his fingers over the rim of an empty glass. 

"We've gotta lot of things to cover," Poe declares gently. Determinedly. When Finn grins at him, he just has to ask. "You've never even.. uh. Applied the handbrake?"

"What?"

But oh, skies, he's already asked. He sounds like his dad. Or worse, his grandfather. "Shine your blaster? Polish your sword? Hell, I don't know what the Order called it," he huffs, turning just a little red and staring away from how lost Finn looks. "We'll -- talk about it later. Maybe not."

Finn still looks so confused, bless him. He's got that look where he's debating asking for more information or not, and he hopes he won't. So much. Oh, no.

"Another drink?" he suggests. 

And Poe can't turn that offer down.


	2. Lesson 72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Right -- yeah, sure," because Finn looks so hopeful, and this would be so much better than working on the x-wing for another few hours. "You can practice on me. Do you want to be Rey, or am I going to be Rey?"
> 
> All he gets is a confused look and a quick shake of Finn's head. "I'm gonna be Finn."

"Poe," Finn calls. But Poe's working on his X-wing, welding something, looking all important all smudged and oil stained two feet away. It's not like he can't hear him. Conveniently. He knows he can hear him. "Poe. Poe Dameron."

He waits half a second. And nothing, and Finn for real doesn't have the audacity for this, much less the patience.

An idea's struck him, and after the deep, obnoxious breath that precedes his loud "This ship's a piece of sh--"

"'Ey!" Poe shouts, whirling around in record time and near tripping over Bebe in the process. His blowtorch is held up to kill, sparks fizzing manically and glowing in the eyes of his welding mask, but then it all stops so suddenly. "Why you gotta hurt her feelings like that, Finn?" 

He can see Poe's twitch of a frown now that he's shucked his mask up, and when he sets a gloved hand on the faded paint of his X-wing to pat her fondly, Finn tries not to laugh. He doesn't want get punched again. "You were ignoring me," he shrugs. 

"You bring food?"

"What? No, I --"

"Is this life or death?"

"No," he huffs automatically. Except maybe? Possibly. Oh, no. "I've gotta question."

"Oh, skies," Poe chokes, mock-freezing for half a second. "What part of the diagrams didn't make sense?"

And Finn's almost embarrassed until he laughs, and Poe removes his mask, wipes his hand soot smudges on his white shirt and leans onto the side of his ship. He's serious, and he gets it, and no one was there to 'splain things to him when it came to life and love. It's a little different, though? Because he's actually seen Finn with Rey. He knows (hopes) it's not long now before they work it out that it's only a matter of time before they realize.

Hopefully. 

He likes seeing Finn all flustered and pining. It makes teasing him so much easier, except this is serious. "What's your question?"

"It might have a thing or.. well, seven things, something like that, to do with this girl. Woman," Finn corrects. He gestures to the air as if that explains the thick of it, as if Poe doesn't realize he means Rey.

"..Is she cute?" As if Poe doesn't know.

Except that stops Finn somewhere in the start of another sentence, and he rubs at his neck, looks for the world of him like he's trying to choose between grape fizzy soda or orange again. "Do you think she is?"

Well, yeah, like half the Resistance has said so while the other half thinks it, but "What matters is what you think."

"Yes," Finn answers, a little too quick. He ducks his head when Poe grins at him. "She's so beautiful."

"You tell her that?"

"I try to, but I never really can. Say it. Y'know?"

Poe nods sympathetically. He doesn't grin wider, nope, roughing his palm over his stubble. "She scare you?"

"'Most more than anything," Finn chuckles, delighted, as if he's not already been done in by love. 

Good, thinks Poe. His grandfather always told him a woman should scare him. "I always wanted a brother," he says before he can help it, looking over to Finn. But that confused look that's a smile of realization too slow -- right. "So you want to tell Rey you think she's beautiful? You just tell her, man. Walk up to her."

"Yes."

"Look her in the eyes," he encourages, making a sweeping gesture to build a little excitement. 

"Right," Finn _preens_ , shifting from foot to foot. 

"Take her in your arms."

"Wait --"

"You could dip her," Poe suggests. When Finn groans and drags a hand over his forehead, he _pfft's_ at him. "Women like it."

"Is that another one of your weird metaphors?"

"I'm gonna start charging you for advice," he teases, quirking a brow at him. "What's your question, then?"

"When we.. when we're talking?" Finn starts, scrunching up his face. "About things?"

"Sure, communication is good," he pipes up helpfully.

"And I say something that makes her laugh?"

"Unintentionally?"

Finn's quiet a beat, a denial in itself. "Not always. Her laugh's really nice."

"Compliment her laugh next time."

"Poe, I'm trying to.." he gestures. A bit spastically. "After we talk."

"You don't want to stop talking to her?"

"No." He admits it with a twist to his mouth, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. "I want to talk to her in other places. Outside of the Falcon and the recreational room."

In all of four seconds, Poe wisely understands. The edges of his mouth turn up roguishly, 'cause he has half a moment to either tell this hotshot about the courting of the past that was chaste and romantic and full of sexual tension, or he can simply tell him about dating and the rules every guy should know. They've already covered a few of them. 

"So you wanna ask her to date you?" His voice is soft, but hell, how big Finn smiles. "You don't feel like you kinda already are?"

"..Am I?"

"You --" Oh, no. Well. "You want to make it official, right? That you're dating?"

Poe's never envied one of the Resistance pilots more. Red Four. Vick. Everytime any of them voice a question they have regarding a lady, he shouts to _do her!_ and all problems are solved. 

This is much nicer, though. Pleasantly time-consuming since the base is pretty boring, but Finn is good company. Real good company. 

"I," Finn starts unsurely. He gestures again, and taking a shot, Poe mouths the words with him, "Want to date her."

"Yes!" he claps, a quiet sigh of relief, a grin that visibly puts Finn to ease. "How you gonna ask her?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you. How to ask. Or tell her, or.. right."

A long pause. "Okay. Okay. You just gotta say what you're thinking," he guides wisely, "but don't underestimate practice."

"Practice."

"Yeah! Rehearse it. Say what you want to a couple times 'till it's perfect."

"Right now?"

"Right -- yeah, sure," because Finn looks so hopeful, and this would be so much better than working on the X-wing for another few hours. "You can practice on me. Do you want to be Rey, or am I going to be Rey?"

All he gets is a confused look and a quick shake of Finn's head. "I'm gonna be Finn."

"I'll be Rey."

"Do you start?" Finn asks, grappling on this idea like it's the best ever.

"You do," he encourages. With a deep breath, he tries to center the inner Rey he doesn't have hidden inside him.

"Okay," Finn nods, inhaling sharply, too. "Rey."

"Yes, Finn?" Poe pipes up in an awful girly tenor.

A look of incredulity passes over Finn's face, but Poe's ears are turning red, and he can't help it, Finn laughs _loud_. "Okay," he gasps, holding onto his side, "okay. Rey," he tries again. Poe smiles encouragingly. "I want to date. You. If you'd like to?"

Simple. Sweet. Against all Rey instinct, Poe restrains himself from falling to a weeping mess of emotion. "That sounds nice."

"For the rest of my life," Finn amends. 

"That.. are you planning on dying soon?"

"What? No, I want to live for a long time. Here," he says, his eyes a little timid. "That'd be nice."

"You should." He clears his throat. "You should tell her that."

"Should I?" Finn asks, not entirely doubtful. Just nervous. Just himself. 

"Women like commitment," he shrugs, soft, "and loyalty and whatnot. You won't have a problem, especially 'cause she likes you." He's goading Finn, but he means it, and the way he flushes is adorable. "When you gonna ask?"

"When the moment's right," he predicts, sounding so much like Poe that it's all shot to hell. "When we're talking, and there's all these moments for it, right. And I _can_ say it maybe, probably?"

"She'll want to, Finn." He's sure of it. "No maybe about it."

"You really think so?"

" _You_ know so." He smiles to give Finn all the boost of confidence he needs, thinking women make fools of them all, thinking it's still just a matter of time. "You want to practice again? Try a few more times?"

"Nope," Finn says, "no. I want to hug you, though," and _damn, kid, you don't even need to ask_.

Poe's careful not to pat or touch anywhere near his spine, and Finn doesn't mention how he stinks of grease and oil. 

"Are we best friends?" Finn asks him, so hopefully and innocently that he can't. Oh, skies. 

"Yeah, Finn. Best friends," he laughs, his heart all warm. "Best friend I've ever had, y'know?"

"Mine, too."


	3. Lesson 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You've never showered?" Poe guesses, asks a little slowly. Not like he's judging, 'cause.. well, he is a little, and this would probably be hilarious if it wasn't so dire. 
> 
> "No, I -- I have," Finn mumbles quietly, looking more embarrassed than Poe reckons he should be. "It just wasn't like this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed Christmas by a day, but I hope you lovelies had a merry one! Enjoy today's double update of chapters two and three and eat lots of food, xx!

It's about four in the morning when he gets the call from Finn, the one asking if he'd _please just maybe perhaps come here by chance if you've got the time and plenty of sleep, please_.

The odds that _here_ was his room and Finn would just be in two towels covering him from head to toe, well, no questions asked. It's stuff like this he told him he was here for, especially when this problematic shower was broken.

Finn had finally been assigned his own shared quarters with an attached wet room safe away from the infirmary, and that meant showers instead of the baths they'd draw for him to help the sensory functions of his back. He hadn't been too excited, though Poe didn't question it until now. Only the shower isn't broken. 

"You've never showered?" Poe guesses, asks a little slowly. Not like he's judging, 'cause.. well, he is a little, and this would probably be hilarious if it wasn't so dire. 

"No, I -- I have," Finn mumbles quietly, looking more embarrassed than Poe reckons he should be. "It just wasn't like this."

"Well, firstly you, um." He sidesteps Finn to walk into the shower, and he hovers his hand centimeters away from the knob. "You just twist it."

"Why are there two of them?"

"It --" And now it's Poe's turn to stutter, 'cause what the fuck is wrong with the First Order. "This one?" he asks, tapping the dial of the knob on the center-right side of the wall. "This is your cold water. The one on the left is hot water. Hoth and Mustafar," he quips, just a little cheek since he really, _really_ doesn't want to see how amazed his best friend looks.

"Hot water?" he asks like he's awe-struck, like he'll gladly spend the next twelve years beneath the steaming water.

How Poe manages to keep his voice casual, he doesn't know. "Did they not have hot water where you're from?"

"It switched on automatically in the wet rooms. Three minutes allowed for each trooper, and the water was always like ice." He sounds sorta far away, but cold on the right, hot on the left. He could do this.

"You can take as long as you want, Finn," he assures him. His heart gives just a little. "Anything you need or want, ask, buddy. I'll help you. I mean it."

Finn's smile is slight, and the scar on his back is so angry when he turns to shuck off the towel around his shoulders. "I know I can. Thanks, Poe Dameron. I mean it," he repeats, looking so ready for that hot water now.

 _I'm sorry_ , he starts to say, a pathetic consideration as poor recompense to all the horrors of human behavior Finn had lived through. He just can't, though, 'cause he's been on the side where genuinity was mistaken for pity. He doesn't want Finn to think all of this is out of pity. So "Enjoy," he offers instead, a careless salute to the younger man's grin 'fore he steps out, closes the door, sorta wants to cry. No one should be treated like those Troopers are, especially one with a heart as big as Finn's.


	4. Lesson 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stupid," he teases, just because they're so serious. It makes Poe smile, though. 
> 
> "Reckless."
> 
> "Irresponsible," Finn chides, mimicking the General's iron voice.

"No," Finn says instantly, tight-lipped and accepting. "Not me."

"This is hypothetical," Snap assures him, gesturing a little wildly. He's lounging on one of the sparse couches in their rec. room since _nothing_ is happening and there's only _so_ long they can listen to Jess gush over all the clothes she wants in an article from Coruscant.

"Hypothetical," Finn repeats dumbly, giving Poe a weird look.

"Hypothetically," Poe stresses with bunches of emphasis. He's fighting such a ridiculous grin, and oh, this isn't even funny. "You'd be the bravest one to fall into a sarlacc pit to see how long it takes to die."

Finn's missing a purpose to all this. He's sure he is. Please tell him he is. "Sure, that's great, but.. why. Would anyone do that?"

"Would we come back for you in a year, see if you're still intact?" Jess flips another page in her long-outdated magazine.

"But we'd have to kill it to get him out of its stomach."

"Does it even have one?"

"Digestive system, Chives."

"Wait," Poe frowns, sitting up from where he's lounging on a pillow on the floor. "Who discovered how they function?"

Jess groans loudly, kicks at his shoulder with her bare foot. "It's half-nine in the morning. Simpler questions."

"Old age would kill before all the other stuff would, right?"

"Right."

Their pause of agreement only lasts so long.

"So if you fell in," Temmin continues, looking pointedly at Finn.

"Why are you so interested in this?" Jess laughs, putting her article aside to start doing some weird thing to her hair.

Finn's really just feeling so attacked right now.

"Do you think any life-threatening digestion or whatever could happen in fifty years or so?"

"He'd maybe just lose his first layer of skin," Poe grins, nudging Finn's leg with his foot.

"Depends on how he'd fall, maybe."

"Wait, wait," Finn huffs. His brows furrow in either confusion or distress, he's not entirely sure. "First thing, why do I have to fall? If I'm," he pauses to just to throw up air-quotes with a grimace, " _hypothetically_ doing this for educational reasons, couldn't I do some impressive glide and dive thing? Yeah, like.." He makes a _whoosh_ sound, spirals his right arm through the air in a graceful arc.

When all the three of them just stare, he does the _whoosh_ again.

"No." Jess slowly shakes her head. "Our last memory of you will be your screams and flails."

"That isn't fair."

"Well," Snap shrugs, waving his hand dismissively, "it _hypothetically_ is."

\- -- - -- -

Finn sees Bebe before he sees Poe, or at least -- he feels BB-8 knock into the backs of his knees before he hears Poe's quick steps hurry down after them.

"We haven't finished your bath," he chides, all covered in grime and oil with a rag that's more soot than cloth. He smiles when he catches Finn's eye, though, and he shakes his head in fond exasperation like Bebe's an unruly child. "First he likes Rey more than me and now he's taken with you."

"Let's learn Binary," Finn suggests, reaching down to pat the droid's head.

Poe gives him that trademark look, that _y'know_ look that either means he's denying rumors or about to share something -- insightful. Wise, if he's suddenly looking so serious and conflicted. It sobers Finn at once. "About earlier," Poe begins.

"Yeah?" He straightens, and Poe -- oh, skies.

"When everyone was calling you brave and you denied it? I just wanna make sure you.. know who you are, I guess." Maybe. He thinks. He tries to wipe his stained fingers on the equally soiled rag, but it doesn't do much good like this doesn't.

"It wasn't anything."

"Except courageous, you think?"

"I'm not that brave. Or good under pressure. Hell, I can barely walk," Finn adds like it's ridiculous, a matter of fact instead of so far from the truth that Poe's a little stunned and worried all over again.

"You rescued me from the First Order," he quips simply, half his eyebrows confused as he focuses on Finn since he's shaking his head _no_.

"Anyone would have done that. It was the right thing to do."

"You let me fly us to Jakku even though you thought it'd be too dangerous."

Bebe beeps and swivels a little, 'cause he knows it was all for him.

"Your mission was to get that map," Finn reasons, reaching down to pat Bebe again. "Everyone needed it."

"Yeah," Poe smiles, 'cause when is he ever not when he's realizing he took for granted all the things his grandfather taught him. "It wasn't your cause, though."

"But I needed something new to fight for," Finn says testily, self-depreciating, _tired_. "I told you it was the right --"

"Thing to do, yeah."

He inhales sharply. "Thank you. That's it."

"You were the first Stormtrooper to walk away from it, Finn," Poe just has to tell him. It's been a few beats of silence, and even still, Finn's shaking his head disparagingly. "Do you know how brave that is? Standing up to authority isn't so hard when you get to practice on parents, but the courage it takes to get away from your friends? Your team? To defy everything that's been engrained into you?"

"Poe," he gripes, pressing his hands firmly to his forehead.

"What?" he answers, his voice raising just a bit since this is ridiculous, since he'd probably be dead if not for this stupid man in front of him, and that -- shit, that in and of itself. "Anyone would have done it? Where were the other Stormtroopers waiting to help me escape? Did they commandeer more TIE-fighters to rescue me?"

"You know they --"

"Were they helping me when --" But Poe can't finish that, so he doesn't because he dreams about it enough, the beatings and the torture of his mind splitting apart, but Finn just. He looks like he gets it. And that doesn't help anything either. "You broke their system, Finn."

"Anyone could have," he protests tiredly, and maybe it goes deeper than modesty and chivalry when you've been told you're worthless since infancy.

"But anyone didn't. You did, Finn. You don't think that's brave?"

"Stupid," he teases, just because they're so serious. It makes Poe smile, though.

"Reckless."

"Irresponsible," Finn chides, mimicking the General's iron voice.

"Pretty brave," Poe just has to try again, a quiet, understanding lilt that's down from eleven to two in nonchalance, another scrub of his dirty hands on the rag. "That choice you made."

_Why are you helping me?_

_Because it's the right thing to do._


	5. Lesson 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or: to ask for help.

"Whoa!" Poe shouts, 'cause oh, stars, oh, garters, all he had to do was get up to debriefing before the General inevitably realizes he's spent two hours looking for damned power converters since _someone_ busted a circuit.

He's already taking the long way past all the pictures in the corridors and a red sock hanging on the handle of a supply closet (Really? _Really?_ ), and now the detour through the medic ward just to see Finn to make sure he isn't going stir crazy. Or doesn't die of boredom. Just a quick pleasantry if he was awake, a promise to come by later if his schedule allowed, but through the blinds on the glass window, he could see Finn standing in the middle of the floor, swaying, sweating, trying to reach for the door to the 'fresher, and oh, _hell_ no.

"Whoa! Finn, buddy," he calls in a warning, sliding open the door and pushing through it as quick as he can. Except he instantly regrets it.

The second Finn snaps his head back to look at him, the second he loses his balance. He's crashing to the floor in a mess that collides with arms and legs and a hiss of sharp pain that burns up his back and locks up his legs and can't even _think_ , and it's so hard to order his arm to wrap around Poe when he can't move. Can't do anything.

"Finn," he says quiet, his arms starting to buckle where he's holding him up straight and staggering back a step. "What're you doing here?" He tries to smile, shifting just a bit so he's helping him stand straight. He tries not to see how Finn's still wincing, how his body's trying to curl in on itself where it hurts. "You come here often?" he jokes next, 'cause his face is _right_  there and the one week and a half he's been awake and the two days he's been relearning how to walk are a little easier when he's laughing.

"You know I stay here," Finn sighs, his teeth grit, his eyes closed, of course missing one of the most galactic pick-up lines. When the pain's a bit more bearable, all that's there is the worry he can see reflected back at him in Poe's look of concern, and he slumps just a little. "I'm sorry."

"You know you haven't quite mastered walking yet," he says gently, unobtrusively, a light tone since Finn's kinda heavy and slouching at the shoulders 'cause the world's kinda heavy, too.

"I just -- I didn't --" And he fists his hands in Poe's shirt to steady himself a little less pathetically. "I was managing alright."

"You were."

"I almost made it to that door."

Poe nods stiffly, and Finn seems to relax a bit more. "You were gonna reach it," he assures him, shifting the barest step towards the 'fresher.

"I didn't.. alright, it wasn't smart, but I wasn't gonna.. y'know?"

"Yeah," Poe agrees, definitely, moving another slow, subtle step over. "It wouldn't have been a problem, though," he guesses, trying to connect the pieces.

"Except it's that I'm really used to not needing it."

And that -- that makes sense to Poe, so he smiles like it's nothing and adjusts his hold on Finn so he can lean on him if he needs to. "Needing help, right?"

"No," he huffs, "needing a bedpan."

And then it's more than just indignation when humility is so close to shame and helplessness is a lot like weakness that would've gotten him disposed of a lifetime ago.

Fuck's sake, he couldn't even walk right now.

"Next time refuse it, then," Poe decides. He takes a second to remind himself to talk to someone about that later, capability and dignity and whatever. He gets it. "The droids can't help?"

"They beep, like. _A lot_."

"Ah."

"The other people," Finn starts with a weird, vague need to explain, "I don't want them to have to see me. In the nude."

"I get it," Poe whispers. Like they're conspiring. He just doesn't laugh, because this isn't funny, this is his best friend that woke up a week ago and could barely move, and the start of anything remotely okay was independence and control and lots of caf. "We're just gonna get you all taken care of 'fore you take on the galaxy, alright?"

And the relief hits him like gratitude, slow, sure, supported steps towards the 'fresher that make him a little less mad at the world when it's also as kind as Poe is. "Sometimes I think we're too close," he mumbles half-heartedly, hearing Poe snort from behind him where he's holding him up so he can have a pee without opening the wounds on his back. "I'm --"

"Nope!" Poe cuts quickly, steering him slowly towards the sink when he's all finished. "You're not apologizin' for this. We all need help. I had to hold Testor's dress up for her once while she relieved herself. In a forest."

"But it's --"

"Nope," he says again, "nuh-uh. Things like this happen. You'll get better at it. You'll probably see someone streak down the hallway sometime."

That makes him cringe, but oh, at least it isn't pain. "They do that here, too?"

And he -- doesn't want to think of the First Order that way. What the hell? No, thank you. "The point," he refocuses, turning Finn around a bit so they're face to face, "you need help, you _ask_ for it. It's what we're here for, to help each other. And if I see you outta that bed without approval.." He leaves the threat unspoken, but he's grinning. "Alright, Big Deal?"


	6. Lesson 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When you said that, quote," he gestures, " _we didn't_ , unquote, what did that mean?"

Poe's guiding his team in some complicated stretch or something when Finn slow-jogs up. 

"Reach," he instructs them, both his arms reaching up for the galaxy, he says. The stars, he says. _Imagine you're like an asteroid meatball_ , he says, serious and centered and trying so hard not to laugh at his snickering crew. 

"Imagine you're the X-wing," Poe continues next, lifting his right knee up so they're all balancing on one foot. "Soar into the hemisphere."

"You're not flying straight," Finn just can't help but say, a poorly concealed snort into his fist. They're all reaching for fluorescent lights and paneled ceilings. They're covered in orange cargo. And sweat. They're all taking notice of Poe's grin of a frown and heading out to the mess hall because muffins are better than whatever this is.

"See ya, Trooper," Jess salutes him and he grins back at her 'cause it doesn't bother him so much anymore. She slaps Poe on the shoulder before she's quickly skins out of his reaching distance.

"We weren't --!" Poe starts, but it's futile, and he's sighing, and he's turning his big brown eyes to Finn like he's all he has in this world and he wants his ice cream from the cafeteria. 

It's so much more adorable when Rey gives him that look. Like, all the more adorable. 

"I know," he says, trying in vein to stave him off. 

"We weren't finished! You're supposed to cool down after drills like you warm up before them, Finn."

"You keep telling me."

"You have to stay properly hydrated, too. No one wants cramps in their legs."

"You -- you tell me, like, three times a week," Finn mumbles, but nope, Poe isn't placated. He's angry. He's rage. 

Not really. He's still smiling, still sweating. "It's basic stuff, right? We've done it for years."

"Well, _we_ haven't, y'know, why run around when you could eat them muffins?"

"That's -- that's a nice jacket," he suddenly notices, his eyes bright and his mouth already quirking up to smirk. 

And self-consciously, almost, Finn tugs at the sleeve of the rugged light brown coat, pausing a dramatic beat. "Oh," he laughs, a little loud, a little too awkward 'cause he still doesn't really get it himself. "Rey left it in my room."

"Oh," Poe frowns, 'cause that's boring. But then his eyes go wide at something that makes his shoulders slant straight and proud, and his eyebrow's doing this weird thing. " _Oooh_ , she left it in your room, eh?"

"Not -- no, not like that, we didn't -- stop giving me that look. It was hanging in my closet."

Poe slumps a little. "Oh."

"Oh, nothing," Finn huffs, giving him a look. He was pretty sure Rey took a pair of his socks, too, whenever she snuck in last night to return the stolen jacket, but who really knew? 

...

Probably Bebe.

"Can I borrow a pair of socks?"

"What?" Poe starts, confusion making him laugh again. "Yeah? But I'm gonna ask you a question."

Oh, no. "You really don't have to." There's, like, nothing they haven't talked about. Poe makes sure he stretches right and knows which medicine to take when he wakes up after drinking. He's told him about guy code and has talked to him about.. uh. Safety. Sexual safety. Health? Precautions? Something like that. And they've covered cooking and dancing and swimming. Sewing. Courage. Self-worth. When to wear brown shoes or black shoes, mmhmm. 

"When you said that, quote," he gestures, " _we didn't_ , unquote, what did that mean?"

"Poe."

"Do you need more diagrams?" he grins. Because he's an ass. 

"All your stick figures did was hold hands."

"Yes," Poe says, deadpan, gone back to that terrible decision of encouraging innocence or just shoving Finn out a window. "Because that's all intimacy is when you choose to partake."

He purses his lips, kinda glances awkwardly up and to the left. "That's still really kinda nice, though, right? Even if it's just that, 'cause it's.. y'know, being close and together and stuff."

"Yeah," Poe nods, a slow stretch of a smile of encouragement 'cause that right there -- that's it. That look he can't laugh at or tease since Rey scares the hell out of Finn and that's what makes a woman a good match. Or so his grandpa told him. "You still dating her without saying you're dating her?"

"I'm not sure?" Finn asks? Like a question? Or a joke, and it makes Poe laugh since he's so nice. Not for the first time, they're best friends and brothers and making life so much better with another person that doesn't laugh when he trips on a step or asks a stupid question during a meeting but drools in his sleep when he's exhausted and passed out that once on his shoulder after taking his squadron out. 

Or really, doesn't laugh when he challenges Snap to an arm-wrestling contest and loses with gracious defeat and the amusement of everyone. (But Temin's got, like, twenty years of working up so much more muscle than Finn does 'cause some of his hard-worked First Order buffness turned soft with the whole coma for seventy-odd or so days thing. 

And the ice cream. 

All the ice cream.)

"Buddy," Poe says, and it makes him cringe just a little when he accidentally called him babe because he thought he was being charming to the new pretty blonde in the control room. But he slings his arm over his shoulders, looks around for Bebe before giving Finn a side glance. "Have you talked to Luke Skywalker?"

Like there was another Luke here, pfft. 

Except Luke in the infirmary. He brought him a lotta ice chips and sat with him sometimes the loud machine showed he slept bad 'cause of nightmares. Nice guy. Not _the_ Luke Skywalker, though. 

"I saw him this morning, yeah."

"Really? You two talk?"

"Well," Finn shrugs, tactful like always, "kinda. I said hello to him, and he wished me a good morning. So not really, no. But now that I think about it, sometimes I tell him when there's good food in the cafeteria if I see him walkin'."

All Poe does is stare at him, blinking for a second before he unlocks the door to his room. He gestures for Finn to come in, but BB-8 comes outta nowhere and near knocks him over to get to Poe first. "You don't talk about Rey."

All he wants is to sit without Bebe making noises at him. "Sometimes he'll tell me that she's done well in Jedi training," he offers helpfully. And then he'll be all, like, _damn, hell, yeah, that's my girlfriend!_ Except not really. Finn doesn't think that. Not at all. 

He asked her again the other day, _you gotta boyfriend?_ since Poe was in a very _be direct, tell her what you want_ mood that resulted in a trip to the medbay. Yep. 

"Does Rey talk about you to him?" Poe asks him. He unhooks his comm from his suit, shrugs out of all that orange to reveal an identical outfit matching to Finn's. Black pants. White shirt. A look of vague confusion. "Does he talk to her about you?"

"No," Finn scoffs, but then: "should he be?" And now he's thinking about it, but getting Luke Skywalker to talk him up to this totally cool, totally _badass_ guy wouldn't do much. Luke did the whole blowing-up-the-enemy-base thing first. And he could use the force. "I should do something impressive," he decides just then.

Poe pokes his head out of the wet room, toothbrush in his mouth. "Slow down, buddy. You even have breakfast yet?"

Finn nods, slumps back into his chair. "With Rey. She laughs lots when she's tired."

"Something impressive," he hums. "We'll think about it."

The door closes to the fresher, and Finn really doesn't get how Poe can shower in about four minutes when how nice the hot water is should take, like, forty minutes to adequately appreciate how _amazing_ hot water is. 'Cause it's really great.

When Poe comes out six odd minutes later dressed in a ridiculous blue sweatsuit he stole from Finn, he's already got it. 

Something impressive. 

"I'm gonna make her laugh that much when she isn't tired and finds everything funny," Finn decides, slapping his knee when he stands. That's the best he can think of for today, making her smile so bright her eyes close and she's beautiful and her face gets all red. 

"Lemmie know how it goes alright?" Poe says it full of so much faith in him, clapping his hand on Finn's shoulder in the way that's no less comforting after all these months. 

"I'm gonna do it." There's a new energy taking hold of him as he starts down the hall, and it is _on_.


	7. Lesson 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yes," he breathes, burning his grin straight from behind Poe to the General. "I forgot what fun felt like."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait! But happy birthday to me, happy unbirthday to all of you, enjoy these two goobers <3

"We're just gonna dance," Poe told him. As easy as a smile because when isn't he, a subtle bit of determination and authority real gentle where he sits. 

He never stands when he talks to Finn, but he figures because he's not awkward like he is when it comes to intense eye contact. 

He also figures it's partially because he doesn't want to look down on him in this infirmary bed like it's pity, but what does Finn know? 

It took him the better part of twenty minutes the other day just to make it down two of the shortest corridors in this base. 

"I don't think that's a good idea," he mumbles. The one time he self-deprecatingly said _I can't_ , Poe shot back with a _you will_ , and well, it might have taken thirteen hours because he's stubborn and got a little too invested in those holovids, but he did. Things are a lot more possible when people are trying to build him up instead of shooting him down, and it's, like, insane, but it's been about fifteen days since he woke up and a hell of a lot longer than that he really felt like he could breathe. 

It's not like anything's slipping away. Or falling apart. 

It's just. 

Sometimes there's an ache in his chest instead of in his back, and he can feel it, he can, roughly the size of his fist when he presses slightly left of his sternum where the First Order tried to act like he didn't have a heart, and it just _aches_ with all these feelings he didn't know were possible. It hurts to think of how Poe looked at him when he confessed he didn't think a heart could heart so bad. It hurts even more to worry and to think and to try to remember the look on Rey's face when she asked him to _stay_. It also hurts to see the General and to think of Solo, but no one said it'd be easy. 

Threepio keeps telling him it's their lot in life. Suffering. 

He thinks that's a little, like. Sad. Like, really sad, like. _0 days without incident_ sad and no more muffins sad on Starkiller Base. 

Poe also keeps telling him to hold on. 

He doesn't really know _what_ to hold onto when who knows where the hand he wants is right now. An island, sure, but come on, he's seen data banks. He knows maps. Islands are everywhere. Lack of specifics got someone extra shifts on the sanitation schedule, okay. He doesn't have time for this. 

Quite frankly, he has nothing but time, but the way Poe's looking at him makes him wish he were asleep. Or at the least, eating. 

Poe keeps promising to bring him some real food, just not until he can actually have solid foods. He'd die for a bantha burger. He probably nearly did. 

"We're just gonna dance," Poe tells him again more surely, like a bitten bullet, like there's so much here to be happy for when Finn's guilty of wanting to roll over as best he can and sink back into boredom like this ridiculously soft pillow. 

"It's against protocol."

"The General might not like it either, sure, but c'mon, buddy, think of all that new range of motion you could groove into!" And it's -- stars, Finn just _knows_ that look on Poe's face when he gets to talking and convinces himself that whichever idea is the best one. 

Which is usually right. Really. 

But "I don't know how," he grumbles, all other excuses shot skywards and overused yesterday. 

"We'll get your knees and hips moving a little, yeah? I'm free for the next eight hours," he grins.

And then he starts to move, cautious like it's his first date, as scared as he was back then 'cause kriff, it's all he needs, to push Finn too far, to knock him down, to have his help angrily waved away when he tries to help him up. 

"What do I --" Finn starts, resigned and wary, awkwardly kinda waving one arm around. "My hands?"

"You can hold onto me," Poe smiles, 'cause when isn't he? "My shoulder, yep, and here." He wiggles his fingers, feels Finn take his hand and slump a bit. Apology has him realizing he's likely exhausted already. "I'm gonna teach you to dance like royalty, alright?"

"Are you?"

"Me? Stars, no," he grins. "Just the posterboy. C'mon, step with me," he instructs gently, drawing his right foot backwards. It's slower than the slowest dance, the cautious way Finn steps back then forwards with his left foot. Bare toes on the cold tile; he can't school his wince fast enough. "You're doing good."

"We've moved a step," Finn contradicts, breathless. He's flushing already, starting to sweat, and it's suddenly a crippling fear burning in Poe's throat. What if he can't ever do this, this sunny kid that fell outta the sky like a hero and a myth. He deserves so much better than this.

"I guess this is nice," he says, mostly just for Poe's benefit -- he can tell -- the slight, just barely marginal way they're sliding to the right. He scrunches up his face, though, awkward 'till the last, until Poe's sock slips on the floor, he's losing his balance way too fast, Finn's grappling his hands into his shirt to steady himself, to steady both of them, they're shouting like they're crazy freed prisoners in a TIE-fighter, crashing to Jakku all over again. 

"I'm sorry!"

"I'm fine!" Finn hollers at him too loudly. He's not breathing, he's crushed in a painful angle against Poe's chest half in air, half on the floor, but _oh_ , the wind's knocked out of him when he hears a quiet laugh. 

"Isn't it too early in lessons to dip your partner, Dameron?" the General calls out to them. She oughtta trademark her smirk -- Han Solo had way too much influence on her, but then Poe starts to smile, too, a quick thing that's for once brighter than these dim medbay lights, and well. 

He should've stuck with teaching him the old _stop the traffic, let 'em though_ move his dad still wows everyone with on special occasions.

"You okay, buddy?" he asks him quietly, so slowly helping right him upwards and mobile again. All things considered, since Finn can stand after this, it might've been good.

"Yes," he breathes, burning his grin straight from behind Poe to the General. "I forgot what fun felt like."

And it's crashing down to Jakku all over again.


End file.
